


what a gift it has been, to enter this circle of lovers

by sourcheeks



Category: The Get Down (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:48:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26499628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sourcheeks/pseuds/sourcheeks
Summary: “I loved you before I even met you, Rumi.” Thor pressed their foreheads together. “Getting to know Dizzee has been like falling in love twice.”“I wouldn’t call it falling in love.” Dizzee chuckled. “I mean, I don’t know about you, but I jumped.”“Let it never be said you lack a flair for the dramatic.”
Relationships: Marcus "Dizzee" Kipling/Thor
Comments: 1
Kudos: 12





	what a gift it has been, to enter this circle of lovers

**Author's Note:**

> So, I found this from way way way back in March of 2018 in my Google docs, and I don't remember what I had planned for the trajectory of this, but I had a first chapter and part of a second chapter, so I'm finishing anyways.

Just because Dizzee was often caught up in the bigger picture, in a literal cosmic sense, that didn’t mean he didn’t notice the little things too. After all, you needed a lot of little things to make a big picture. 

Thor was everything Dizzee ever could have wanted. The two of them were alike enough for Dizzee to feel free to talk to him, but different enough for them to actually have an interesting conversation. He had the same burning passion for art, and they more often than not spent hours together going through each other’s sketchbooks. And the sex was divine - no pun intended. Dizzee had always been partial to the term ‘making love’ because it sounded more romantic, but being with Thor had given him a whole new appreciation of it. Even on nights they didn’t actually do anything, Dizzee felt a little calmer, a little safer, sleeping next to Thor. Because they would protect each other. Thor was one of the most generous souls Dizzee had ever met, too. The two of them shared everything - their art, their music, their stories. And Thor also shared his space with Dizzee, a standing promise any time he needed to leave his own house that even if Thor wasn’t there, that safe little place, just for the two of them, always would be. 

And Thor actually cared. Most of Dizzee’s relationships hadn’t been great. Well, they had been great for what they were - largely, two ships passing in the night, once or twice friends with benefits before Dizzee got too close to crossing over from a fuck buddy to a boyfriend. But Thor was kind and attentive and caring - he hung off Dizzee’s every word, and Dizzee did the same for him. Two psychic boys, vibing on each other’s brainwaves like a broadcast radio signal. 

Thor always had questions about Rumi. But it took him nearly two months to ask the question most people opened with - “Where did you come up with the name Rumi?”

“There was this guy, this Persian guy, Jalal Al-Din Rumi,” Dizzee began, rattling off the speech he practically had down rote by now. “He was a poet. And he wrote some out-there stuff, man - fucking inspiring shit. That’s what all the poetry in my tags is, Rumi quotes.”

“Shit.” Thor laughed. “I thought you came up with all of those, actually - it all seemed just so… well,  _ you _ .”

“That’s why I like him so much. He died a long time ago. But I still feel, like, connected to him, because of his poetry.” Dizzee pressed his fingertips to his own temple, then Thor’s, then did the same with their chests. “Mind to mind, heart to heart. Just like us.”

“Just like us,” Thor echoed, taking Dizzee’s hand and kissing each of his knuckles. “Keep talking. I like hearing you explain things.”

That wasn’t something Dizzee heard often. It was a very nice thing to hear. “‘Love is reckless; not reason. Reason seeks a profit. Love comes on strong, consuming herself, unabashed.’ That one is one of my favorites.” He smiled. “It reminds me of you. But everything reminds me of you.”

“It’s beautiful. You’re beautiful.” Thor kissed him. “Beautiful boy, with your beautiful words.” He stared at Dizzee in absolute awe, like he wasn’t entirely certain that he was actually there. Dizzee understood that - he had trouble, sometimes, believing he hadn’t conjured Thor up entirely. How else would have found someone who connected with him on the level that Thor did? “Keep going. Please.”

Dizzee obliged, holding Thor close, mumbling stanzas like secrets against his ear. Eventually, Thor fell asleep, going lax against Dizzee’s chest. Diz laid him down, settling beside him to sleep himself. When he woke Thor was scribbling away in his sketchbook, and when Dizzee peeked over his shoulder, he saw that Thor wasn’t drawing, but writing. 

“‘This is love - to fly towards a secret sky, to cause a hundred veils to fall each moment,’” he read. The poem continued on, stopping abruptly in the middle of the second stanza. “I thought you were already asleep when I started that one.”

Thor startled at his voice, laughing in relief when he realized with was only Dizzee. “I was getting there, yeah. But that one snuck with me - wormed into my dreams all night. I wanted to write it, so I could keep it - that’s a bit silly, isn’t it?”

“Nothing you do is silly.” Dizzee took the book, finishing the second stanza, his spidery scrawl a clear contrast to Thor’s heavy, blocky letters. “‘To see beyond seeing itself, to reach and feel within the breast.’”

“He does talk like you, doesn’t he?” Thor smiled, cupping Dizzee’s jaw. “Like there’s so much in his head that if he doesn’t say it, he’ll go crazy.”

“And if he does say it, everyone will think he’s crazy.” Dizzee rested a hand over Thor’s. “So you can stay sane and sound crazy, or you can stay silent and go crazy.”

“You’re always welcome to sound crazy with me,” Thor reassured him. “After all. We weirdos have to have each other’s backs, right?”

“Right.” Dizzee smiled. “Celestial boys. You and me. Thor and Rumi, Noah and Dizzee.” 

“And where does Marcus fit in to that equation?”

Dizzee paused, pondering his words for a moment before he felt cohesive enough to answer. “There’s not a Marcus, I don’t think. Marcus isn’t a person, never was. He’s an idea - he was my parent’s idea, and even they figured out that he wasn’t real after a couple of years. So I’ve always been Dizzee, I think. And Dizzee isn’t Rumi, but Rumi is Dizzee, and maybe Rumi is even Marcus. I think Rumi is all the parts of me that don’t fit inside of Dizzee.”

“I loved you before I even met you, Rumi.” Thor pressed their foreheads together. “Getting to know Dizzee has been like falling in love twice.”

“I wouldn’t call it falling in love.” Dizzee chuckled. “I mean, I don’t know about you, but I jumped.”

“Let it never be said you lack a flair for the dramatic.” Thor pressed gentle kisses against his nose, his cheek, his mouth, the even blend of sweet chasteness and desperate wanting he’d so perfected. “I’d call it falling. I never meant to love you, you know, especially before we met. All I knew was how Rumi spoke to me. Made me think, made me dream. And when I actually met you - well, I was already falling, wasn’t I?”

“Lucky you. I ended up catching you when you landed.” Dizzee wound his fingers in Thor’s long hair. “We had to meet. The universe wanted us to. ‘Lovers don’t finally meet somewhere. They’re in each other all along.’”

“Is that Rumi the poet, or Rumi the alien?”

“A little bit of both.” Dizzee pulled back a bit, picking up Thor’s sketchbook and pressing a kiss to the page with the poem. His lipstick had smeared while he slept, but he still left a deep purple lip print, just beneath their combined writing. He scribbled yesterday’s date on the top of the page. “All the better to keep last night,” he hummed happily. 

“What better souvenir could I ask for?” Thor lay his head on Dizzee’s shoulder. “Hey, Rumi? I have another question - not about poetry, though. Just a general question.”

“Shoot. I’m all ears.” 

Thor thumbed nervously at the fabric of his shirt, chewing his lip. Dizzee rarely saw him fidget like this - when they were together, Thor said he was relaxed, less anxious than when he was alone, or with other people. “I’m not really doing this right, and I know that. But it doesn’t have to be traditional, I guess - that would actually be pretty weird.” Thor laughed, a high, nervous sound, nothing like his stoned giggles or his low, deep laugh of amusement. “Rumi. Dizzee. Will you marry me?”


End file.
